A Gray Hell
by Umaan
Summary: ARC-1247 arrives on Aldura for one reason: To kill a top-ranking Separatist. He doesn't yet know that he's been deployed to a waste of war and pain. He and the closest things he has to friends are trapped in a gray hell, and there is only one way out.
1. Arrival

**Aldura, Ardent City Outskirts, 19BBY**

ARC-1247's gloved hands gripped the handle above him as the gunship rocked and bucked. Other soldiers stood around him, appearing blank and unscathed in the dim troop compartment. An explosion flashed through the slits in the door to his right, and the gunship buckled, but stayed its course. Fragments of shells and debris clacked against the walls. A red light suddenly blinked on, confirming 1247's observations.

"Fifteen!" An intercom above them announces. "The incoming's too heavy to enter the city, so I'll be settin' you down outside!" With another tremor, 1247 rocks but remains on his feet, the Westar M5 strapped to him tugging him down. _Remember: Help out the regulars, but don't hesitate to leave 'em behind if they drag you down._ The ARC is wrenched out of his thoughts with another quake. "Ten!" The doors of the LAAT/i slid open, and the fires dotting the fields below them flared against Aldura's grey skies. _Overcast. Won't be too surprising to get rain._ 1247 analyzed. "Five!" The gunship gradually grew closer to the ground as it raced toward the city entrance, where AT-TE units and several platoons of infantry were positioned. 1247 could decipher billboards on the city's buildings when they finally touched down. "Go, go!" Every soldier inside the gunship jumped out, and was quick to join the ground forces. ARC-1247 slipped his Westar's strap from his shoulder and held it as he ran across one of many duracrete highways connecting the city to others, like a spider web.

At the city entrance, an AT-TE stood on the right flank, slowly advancing, and another stood just ahead in the center. Several clone squads were positioned in rubble, craters, and behind crates, surrounding the walkers. 1247's companions dispersed among the infantry, but he stood in the center of the street, behind the front line. The enemy had just retreated, but the Republic soldiers stood firm at the entrance until it could regroup. Wounded men and several medics sat crowded inside what used to be a hotel, exposed by a completely flattened front wall, the emptiness stretching to the second floor. Ammo caches were set on the sidewalk, oversaw by a relatively unscathed trooper under a grey tarp bearing the Republic insignia. A blank clone whose armor bore ash and burns had sat against a crate in the ammo caches, talking to another tattered trooper seated next to him. The clone overseeing the ammo glanced at 1247, tapped one of the two troopers, and pointed at the ARC, murmuring something.

"Look at that, Drone, one of the deluxe snowflake models has decided to join us." The trooper seated closest to 1247 hissed.

"Maybe he's come to discipline you, one-four." The clone next to him joked. 1247 glared at 14 for a second before confronting him.

"This deluxe snowflake model might just have to if you can't hold that tongue." 1247 threatened, with every ounce of authority and calmness of a Jedi General.

"Oh... You could hear that, Sir? I didn't mean to offend you..." 14 lied. The ARC gazed at him for a short time. A clone commander then joined them under the tarp.

"One-five, what's our ammo situation?" The officer questioned in his tenor voice. 15 closed a munitions box and stood up from behind the crates, revealing himself.

"We don't have enough to stay here long term, if that was your plan, Sir." He reported with a slight accent. "Those attacks have been eating up our 15S rounds fast, and we're already low on thermal dets. If only Drone could aim a little better, then he'd make them count."

"My aim's just fine, Nil." Drone argued. 15 cleared his throat, and stared down at Drone. "Sergeant Nil." Drone corrected himself, before promptly adding, "Sir."

"Well, reorganize the ordinance, and get me a headcount. In the meantime," The commander turned his helmeted head to 1247, "I'll be debriefing this fine soldier." He gestured for 1247 to follow him, before walking around the ammo dump and entering the storefront behind it. The ARC followed him into a restaurant with a dull white glow from above, and multiple tables flipped over. They sat down at a table that was still arranged, brushed some rubble off of it, and got to business.

"So, what's your name? You're important, right?" The commander wondered. 1247 set his rifle down, leaning it against his chair.

"ARC-1247, Sir. I'm just a trooper, not too important. We're all the same degree of expendable down here eh?"

"You got a nickname?"

"No Sir. My squad leader's a hardass about protocol."

"Where _is_ the rest of your squad?" A weak scream slipped out of one of the wounded men across the ravaged street. 1247 turned his head, but the commander didn't seem to think anything of it.

"All differently assigned. Our ranks got thinned out after our last mission, and we're so small now that command decided to split us up. They put me here to reinforce you lot in capturing the city." For the first time, 1247 had not told the whole truth. He thought it better not to tell the regulars about his other objective, Cal Vois.

"I see. Well." The commander shifted and got up, "Get some sleep if you need it, we move out in two hours standard." He strode out of the building and returned to a completely wrecked building the garrison had converted into a comms center. 1247 decided to take a short nap in a little while. He slung his gun over his shoulder and left the restaurant. Outside, he saw most of the troops getting comfortable out on the street. Aldura was currently in its summer months, so sleeping outside wouldn't be too bad.

"Ey, Snowflake, did the commander confess his feelings for you in there or what?" 14 pressed.

"Don't call me that or I will break your legs." 1247 didn't mean it, but if it would get 14 to shut up, he'd say it.

"Sorry, 14 gets irritable when people are better than him." Drone explained, nudging the grumpy trooper next to him. 1247 realized these were the only troopers in the bunch he knew at all, and he decided he'd sit with them tonight. _Better than with strangers, or alone. I hope._

"Alright, how about I call ya Snowball?" 14 dared. Snowball sat down next to 14, pressing his back against some kind of ordinance box and setting his rifle just next to him.

"Shinies." Snowball groaned in acceptance.

"Hardly. Snowball." Nil countered, as he lowered to his belly on the other side of the group, still under the wide tarp. The Sergeant took his phase 2 helmet off, revealing a face identical to Snowball's, save for a tattoo that read, 'The Fine Game' and nestled his head into his arms crossed in front of him.

"I'm gonna take a nap now, I've wasted a lot of ammunition today. Night Snowball." Drone mumbled, freeing his face as well. 14 and 1247 did the same, and set their buckets on the crates next to the others'.

"Hey, one-four. Didn't catch your nickname." Snowball whispered.

"They never gave me one." The soldier answered, his closed eyes unmoving.

"How about 'Sassy?' Sound good?"

"Mm, no."

"Do you even want a nickname?"

"If we were supposed to have names, we wouldn't all have serial numbers." 14's face donned indifference.

"Well, if you're fine with just being a number I suppose I'll let you have that but it looks like I'm stuck as Snowball." Scarce raindrops began to fall onto the tarp above them, but not enough to bring any men to sleep in shelter.

"Night Snowball." 14 smiled. 1247 leaned forward to see everyone else's eyes closed. He leaned back and followed suit. He'd have a long day ahead.


	2. Raiders

**Aldura, Ardent City, 19 BBY**

1247 leaned out from the corner. He looked right. _Clear._ He looked left. _Clear._ He shouldered his weapon and crossed the street. The ARC jogged to the apartment building and slammed his back on the wall beside the door. Drone, Nil, and 14 followed suit on either side of the doorway. Snowball pressed his shoulder in and settled his Westar's muzzle on the lock. Nil crept in front of the door, muzzle up. He held up three fingers. Two. One. 1247 squeezed his trigger, a blue jolt slicing through the lock. Like clockwork, Nil and his men broke down the door and shuffled into the room with guns up.

"Clear. This floor at least." Nil declared. The four soldiers eased up, lowering their weapons. The Sergeant laxly paced around the lobby, and found the lift.

"You're not makin' us check every floor, are you?" Drone ventured.

"You aren't. Snowball, One-four, sweep these levels while I set up on the roof. Drone, with me." Snowball glanced at 14. He stared back. Although they were wearing helmets, 1247 could tell 14 was annoyed.

"Yes Sir." 14 acknowledged, still staring at Snowball. He broke what Snowball assumed was eye contact and the group piled into the elevator. The buttons were laid out 'L' through 16. Nil jabbed the sixteenth and second buttons and adjusted the strap to a bag hanging on him. The doors slid shut as Snowball caught a glimpse of another recon team surveying the street.

After the last room on the third floor, 14 finally said something other than typical call-outs.

"So, you're an ARC… Been in any dangerous missions?"

"Yeah. Last mission was the hardest." Snowball led 14 to the lift and punched 4.

"And what was that?"

"We paid a visit to Eriadu 'cause command picked up a lead on Grievous." The doors opened at a floor identical to the previous one, save for a different pattern of broken windows and paintings.

"Grievous? Was the lead accurate?" Snowball opened a door on the left of the hall, and 14 took the right.

"It was a trap. Grievous wasn't there, just a huge cell of droids." Snowball glanced in, and closed the door. _If there are clankers in the rooms at all, they'll jump at the chance to expose themselves. Stealth's not a mechanical specialty. That's why the Seps rely on numbers. Overwhelming crowds of B1s and armor columns backing them up._ The ARC thought back. _Destroyers rolling in from the sides while the B1s draw fire. Vultures shooting down their exfil._ Snowball's thoughts faded as he met the end of the hall. He waited for 14 and walked back to the lift with him. "You know they say having no name is bad luck."

"Well, it must be true if we got stuck checkin' all these floors." 14 chuckled. The lift once again took them higher. "Y'know, you aren't too bad Snowball."

Nil wearily climbed the stairs, one hand outstretched with his DC15S, and the other holding onto the large bag slung over his shoulder. Drone followed behind, much less tense, but still on guard.

"Why don't they make elevators that go up to the roof?" Drone whined quietly. Nil paid him no mind as he reached the top. The two stacked up on either side of the door and broke it down. The bright, unclouded Alduran sun beamed down on them, as they stood on the broad rooftop. The slate gray floor was stained with oil and rain. Nil led Drone to a ledge on their left overlooking many other rooftops and a few streets. "Sir, what was it that Shadow said?"

"First of all," Nil took a knee facing the ledge and set the bag down. "You'll call him commander or sir." The sergeant unzipped the bag and pulled out a set of rods and a large module. "Secondly, he said that we're gonna strike at Seppie forward bases throughout the city," He clicked a thick beam into the end of the main body. "And Snowball's gonna give us some sniper action. Listen to the briefings."

"No, no, his _exact_ words." Drone pressed as Nil attached a sleek, black scope into place.

"Yeah, don't tell me that _before_ I say everything. I don't remember the specific words anyway."

"Aw, that's what I really needed!"

"That's bull, you just napped through the briefing again didn't you?"

"Well when you only get two hours of sleep…"

"We had the same amount of sleep, I was every degree of tired you were."

"Not all of us are robots, Sir." Drone dared. Nil locked a stock in, and slammed it twice to make sure it was sturdy. Drone brought his wrist to his helmet and as it lit up he spoke, "Ey, One-four, you guys done clearing those floors?"

"Yeah." 14 answered from behind them. Snowball squatted down next to Nil.

"Nice piece 'o hardware. I've never seen anything quite like it."

"It's an HRS-3. The commander had to pull some strings to get us a weapon of its caliber." Nil adjusted the bipod and set it on the ground. "Careful not to drool over it so much you don't cover us." Nil stood up and left Snowball with the weapon. The ARC dropped to his belly, and felt the rifle's – no, _cannon's_ – sleek features. "Drone, One-four, we move in twenty minutes." Snowball picked one of many cartridges out of the bag and slid it into the HRS-3. He looked into the scope while he turned various knobs and sliders on it to adjust the view. "Will it do?"

"Aye, it'll do nicely. I'm no sniper, but I _am_ a fast learner."

"Good to hear." The troopers relaxed in the sun for a short while before dusk fell, when Nil glanced at his chrono and declared they were moving out. Nil, Drone, and One-four stood in the street, guns up and muscles tense.

"C'mon boys," Nil turned to them and grinned deviously under his helmet, "Let's make the Tusken Raiders look like a travelin' circus."


	3. Orders

**Aldura, Inner Ardent City, 19 BBY**

"They were last sighted in this area."

"Acknowledged. Fan out."

The inhuman voices behind Nil and his men kept them on edge. Hidden from the moonlight, Nil and his men kept their backs pressed against the immobilized speeder. Only his eyes moved, darting at the two soldiers to his left before narrowing on a cracked window of a store in front of him, easily scanning its reflection of the dim city street. He could just barely make out the tops of what seemed like Super Battle Droids bobbing up and down at the bottom of the frame. The clunks of the battle droids' feet on the duracrete ground drowned out the explosions bellowing above, where the Republic Fleet was still struggling to gain an advantage. When the numerous footsteps grew quieter, Nil brought up his commlink to his helmet.

"Snowball you better have an eye on us," He peeked over the top of the speeder at the wide backs of the Super Battle Droids bringing up the rear. "This could get ugly real quick." He murmured, sitting back down. He spread his shins further, kicking over a small mass of rubble.

"Audio trace detected." A Super Battle Droid groaned. The droid platoon came to an abrupt stop. About half of the mass broke formation and cautiously began marching back to the speeder.

"Snowball?" Nil whispered. The footsteps grew louder again. Nil gripped his DC15S tighter. Drone and One-four gazed upward, weapons ready. As the droid's feet pounded, so did the troopers' hearts. Nil struggled to keep his labored breathing quiet. Sparks shattered the quiet. A loud thud shook the loose pieces of bricks and glass around them. The footsteps ceased, and then battered the troopers' ears as the droids scattered. Nil heard a second SBD bash the ground.

"Soryx Apartments, rooftop." A B1 declared. The entire patrol unleashed a volley of blaster bolts in the opposite direction of Nil's team. The three clones turned and gazed over the speeder at the disarrayed droids barraging the distant tower. A crowd of blue-ish gray bulk and mechanical tan skeletons spitting bolts of red at a tower miles away. A thin blue beam struck down on them periodically. Nil readied his blaster atop the scratched green paint of the speeder, and tapped the vehicle to get his soldiers' attention. He motioned for them to follow, and ran to a storefront across the street that had very little wall left, just high enough for someone to crouch behind. The troops turned their backs on the droids and entered the ash-filled building with their sergeant, leveling their weapons on the low wall.

"Open fire!" Nil called, and three streams of blue flooded onto the mechanical soldiers. The back line of droids was battered, and some of the droids comprising it collapsed. The remaining rear lines turned away from the sniper and fired back, forcing Nil and his men to duck down. Lasers raced above them and scorched the wall about 20 meters behind them. Nil could actually hear pieces of duracrete breaking off of the wall simply from the blasts. _What in the blazes? Must just be a flimsy wall…_

Nil perked up shortly and spat a volley of lasers, which simply slammed a super's plating. "Damn, 15S doesn't do a thing!" He crouched back down and activated his commlink. "Snowball, hit the supers first, their armor's too thick for small arms!"

Snowball zoomed out from a B1's chestplate and centered an SBD in the scope. He squeezed the trigger, and the cannon crashed against his already sore shoulder. The same super battle droid's torso ruptured in sparks, and the rest of it collapsed. Snowball picked another deep blue target. _They're not ordinary supers, Nil. You haven't seen them before 'cause you're just a regular, so I can't blame you. Elite super battle droids only guard high-ranking seps. Like Vois._ When all the supers were reduced to litter, Snowball lifted his finger and let his squadmates pick off the B1s. _Tougher armor, and…_ Snowball zoomed on a fallen B2's abnormally large wristed mounted gun. _Some nasty firepower too._

Drone wandered into the street and nudged a machine with his boot. "Stupid droids! There were like forty of 'em and four of us!" He laughed.

"They're mass produced for a reason." 14 put in perspective as he left the demolished structure. "Let's hope we don't get that much more attention before we can blow the flak guns." Nil joined them in the road and looked around.

"We're already gonna be tying down half the damn garrison when we do, so what's a few extra clankers gonna change?" Drone wondered.

"Keep the chatter to a minimum, we're moving out. And this time let's do things quietly." Nil ordered, and brought up his comm. "Snowball, tail us on the rooftops."

"Aye-aye." Snowball kneeled and packed up the rifle. He kept an eye on the distant clones on the ground while climbing ledges and jumping over gaps. Even in the dark, from there he could see the vague silhouette of Cal Vois' headquarters, towering above the rest of the skyline. Clankers had installations on the spaceport, train systems, and any potential salient, but this was by far the most fortified building in the city. Dashing through the lukewarm breeze, Snowball lugged the rifle's bag along with him across the eerily dim skyline. War had emptied Ardent City of its soul. And especially that of the Twi'leks, whom the Separatists would systematically capture and enslave. The ARC recalled being told something like "only one Twi'lek left the work camps alive for every five captured." He didn't know if this was true, but it seemed in line with the CIS.

Somewhere in the distance, Snowball heard a loud boom, followed by a symphony of more explosions and screams. Gunfire joined the arrangement.

"Nil, do you hear that?" Snowball yelled into his wrist.

"Yeah! Do you know what's going on?"

Inside the Republic comm center on the city outskirts, Commander Shadow leaned into his console. He swallowed, and his heart quickened with worry at the thought of sending his company to their deaths. Regardless, even a commander had orders to obey.

"Soldiers," He hesitated. "We've received word that Army Group Aurek crossed the Kurr Straight, but was ambushed a mile or so inland, not far from here. They can still break out of the encirclement, but only with our help. We've gotta capture the city quickly if we're to reach them in time. Attack the central fortifications! Break through!" The commander tapped his helmet to initiate a secure channel. "Snowball, I know you're not just here as reinforcement. Whatever it is you're supposed to do here, now might be your best bet."

"Aye-aye." Snowball groaned.

Shadow passed through the now-replenished groups of soldiers crowding by the walkers on the street. He caught looks from all the men. Many looks of readiness, many of worry. He climbed into his command AT-TE, and gave the word to advance. He sat in the walker's cabin as it quaked with each massive footstep. The dress officers working the consoles only made him think of the troops marching outside. The huge walker's feet solemnly drumming the ground, and the expendable men marching to near certain death in the lonely and uncomfortable awkwardness of men going to battle.


	4. Trap

**Aldura, Inner Ardent City, 19BBY**

The walker's loud thumps and the sound of explosions outside the troop chamber's walls slowly pulled Shadow's heart into his stomach as he knew he was getting closer. The eruptions and screams grew louder with each shake of the AT-TE's frame. Shadow opened the troop hatch in the AT-TE and dropped down. The commander unholstered his pistols right after his boots slammed the street. He took a long look at the carnage. It was a very dark night, and smoke was blocking out what little moonlight there was. The Republic soldiers were hunched over rubble from buildings, laying in craters, and standing in the tarnished buildings. A sergeant that Shadow was particularly fond of split from the main group to greet him.

"Sir! The enemy is well dug-in on this street!" He yelled over the battle. "The South group's been getting hammered by artillery, so they've barely made any progress on their front! Some of us think that," He paused apprehensively. "Your strategy of a two-pronged attack may be to blame. We've stretched ourselves too thin to break their line!"

Shadow had underestimated his enemy. Droidekas lined the street from sidewalk to sidewalk about 50 meters away, in an uninterrupted wall of blue ray shields. Supers were behind them, firing around the shields, covered by heavy machine gun nests in building windows. Shadow knew what to do. He turned to the AT-TE and pointed at the droidekas.

"Hit those things with the heavy cannon!" He directed himself back to the enemy lines and peered at the droidekas through the storm of laser fire. A huge blue bolt landed directly on the center droideka and shattered the formation. Parts of the metal monsters scattered across the already cluttered wastes. "Walker! Move up! Nil, tell the men to use the walker as cover and advance down the street!"

Sergeant Nil nodded and returned to the soldiers. The walker lumbered forward, and lines of troopers parted in front of it. The men started to swarm behind the AT-TE when it passed the line. Troopers advanced cautiously, simultaneously keeping up with the armor and firing on droids that were in similar positions as they were.

Sitting comfortable in the dim war room, Cal Vois, Alduran generals and the planetary CIS leaders stared at the hologram displaying the current situation. Vois picked at his human lips while he racked his brain for a solution. _The Republic has unwisely decided to push forward… How do I take advantage of this?_

"Wayke." Cal murmured. "Your barrage tactics have impressed me so far, but can your long range artillery hold the Southern flank?" A rather young looking general sitting two seats away straightened and scrambled to find his words. His arm scrambled its way up his uniform to his collar and clasped it.

"They are, um, the most modern units we have. They outclass the Republic artillery by far."

"But do they outclass the rest of their army? Can a sustained barrage," He paused, narrowing his glance, "Hold the Republic back?" Vois firmly asked.

"I think so, m'lord. What do you have in mind?"

"If your artillery can lock down the Southern flank on its own, then that's a few companies of infantry we can move to the more dangerous North."

"Well, so long as the Republic doesn't learn that we've moved all the infantry, a continuous barrage should stave off any attacks." The general assured his overlord. Cal relieved the General Wayke of his glare.

"Excellent." Vois pressed a small button on the table and leaned into it. "Commander."

A robotic voice answered, "Yes my lord."

"Move every infantry company to the North. Discretely, please."

" _Every_ company, sir?"

"Yes, all of them. You will lay down a continuous barrage on the Republic lines to cover their absence." Vois cut the transmission, and stood, to lean over the table. "We'll hide the reinforcements in these buildings," He traced his finger along the buildings lining the Northern street. "And when the Republic has advanced far enough, we can surround and destroy them. Then we can move back South and clean up remaining forces, and without allied help, the army on the Kurr Straight will be extinguished."

"Excellent plan my lord! I can see why Count Dooku put you in charge of this operation!" A different general across the room blurted. Vois gave a slight scowl at the officer and his weak features. _Regardless of how desperate for my favor these cowards are, I'll have to tolerate them. When the invasion's over, I can go back to Concordia. And her._

1247 could hardly believe what he heard. He inched back around the corner of the building, to the window. Snowball adjusted the volume of the feed and tried to eavesdrop further. _The lights on the inside will hide me from them._ Snowball brought his commlink to his helmet, and activated it.

 _The raids in the inner city before are unsettling. Why would a recon team outwardly attack bases? They must've been a distraction. They stopped just after the attack however, so the Republic may be trying to put all hands on deck. Or are they doing actual recon now? Perhaps they've left behind a team of spies…_

"Byst." The weak-featured general's eyes snapped to Vois'. "Send the commando droids on patrols. It's unlikely that the whole Republic fighting force is on the front line."

"Yes my lord." The general promptly left, to issue new orders in the command center of the tower. Cal Vois turned away, but a small white glow outside the window caught his eye. Just the right size for a comm.

The ARC's heart plummeted when Vois looked straight at him.

 _I have to tell the commander, or they'll fall into the trap!_

 _He's trying to tell his commander, and advise them of the trap!_ "Activate the jammers now!" Vois barked. Wayke quickly jabbed a button on his wrist brace.

1247's comm and eavesdrop feed both burst into ear-shredding static. Startled, he scrambled to deactivate them. When the sound cut out, he unclipped the thermal detonator from his belt and wedged it into the base of the window. _So much for stealth!_ Snowball unstrapped his Westar. _I'll kill this bastard and make a run for it!_ He ducked around the corner, and the quake of the building almost dislodged him. Like a breach procedure he practiced thousands of times in training, he turned back to the ruined window and stepped in, Westar readied in one hand, the other hovering over an EMP hanging from his belt. He narrowed the gun at Cal Vois. _You're not setting anymore traps._

Like a flash, Vois dived behind the hologram table, gritting his teeth at his attacker. 1247's blue volley of lasers scorched the polished walls. Frustrated, he aimed at a younger general and wasted some rounds. The general coughed and toppled. Two commando droids darted into the room, and the ARC swung the gun to face them. He fired on them, simply bludgeoning their armor. The lanky machines spat red bolts at him, and one seared straight through him. He was frozen with astonishment. Awful-smelling smoke wafted up to his helmet. His hand caressed the hole in his midsection in disbelief, still not able to comprehend what had happened. His kneepads shattered the broken glass on the floor. He relinquished his weapon, and collapsed. He failed. Cal Vois' boots clacked the floor an inch from Snowball's head.

"Pathetic. This one must've been new to combat or something."

The words somehow stung 1247's already numb mind. His career, his ambitions, and his pride ended by something as simple as a laser. He clamped his eyelids, weighted with failure. And for the first time since Geonosis, he let a tear slip.


End file.
